


The Sketchbook

by ArtistActressAthena



Series: Sanders Sides High School AU [1]
Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Fluff, High School AU, I rated it T just to be safe, M/M, So yeah, idk how tags work, slight angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-09
Updated: 2018-08-09
Packaged: 2019-06-24 14:28:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,120
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15632553
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ArtistActressAthena/pseuds/ArtistActressAthena
Summary: Virgil loses one of his most valuable possessions hiding one of his more...embarrassing secrets.  But maybe it won't go as badly for Virgil as he thinks.AUDIO FIC ADDED 1-31-2019





	The Sketchbook

**Author's Note:**

> AUDIO FIC: https://youtu.be/vFpmj4lciPU  
> Narrated By: romanmustberomantic  
> Added: 1-31-2019
> 
> tw – swearing, panic attack, bullying, homophobic language
> 
> Hey everyone! This is my first fanfiction pretty much ever and it's a little rough around the edges but I hope you enjoy!

“Hey, fag, what the hell is this?” Dorian asked, shoving Virgil Sanders to the ground and yanking something from his backpack.

Virgil froze when he saw exactly what Dorian had taken. “G-give that back!” he whimpered, but Dorian and Jess were already thumbing through the small leather-bound sketchbook.

“Holy _fuck_ ,” Jess exclaimed, cackling. “Dorian, look at this shit!”

“Is that _Roman Prince?_ ” Dorian shouted. Virgil wanted to yell at them to just shut the fuck up, but at this point he was too mortified.

“Every single drawing is Roman goddamn Prince,” Jess confirmed. “Looks like we hit the jackpot, bro.”

“Please, j-just g-give that back,” Virgil begged again.

“Ooh, I’m so _scared_ ,” Dorian mocked. “Don’t worry, Virgil. You might get it back after we make sure Prince hates your guts.”

“Yeah, cause after knowing you actually exist, how could he not?” Jess asked with a devilish grin. They ran away from Virgil, sketchbook in hand and laughing at the top of their lungs, and Virgil felt like the universe was going to collapse. He ran to the bathrooms. 

_SHIT SHIT SHIT._

Virgil locked himself in a bathroom stall, trying with all of his might to slow down his breathing, but the numbers weren’t coming. Nothing that the school counselor, Dr. Picani, had taught him was coming back to him to help him.

_FUCKING SHIT._

He was such an idiot. How could he have let this happen?! Why was he so stupid and dumb and worthless? Why did he have to lose the one thing he never could have afforded to lose?

_FUCK!_

Why did every noise seem so far away? Why was his vision blurred? Why was he trembling and his heart beating so fast? Why why why –

_4-7-8._

There were the breathing technique numbers. In for 4, hold for 7, out for 8. In for 4, hold for 7, out for 8. Virgil felt his breathing return closer to its normal pace and his thoughts came back to him. He still remained in his seated position on the dirty floor, though, because he didn’t feel like getting up.

He felt his phone buzz in his pocket. He pulled it out. _Incoming call from Remy Morgan._

Virgil facepalmed. _There’s a good idea for once in your life, Virgil. Talk to your cousin, aka the one person you know who’s not an asshole._ Virgil pressed accept.

_“Hey, Virge, wassup?”_ Virgil rolled his eyes at how Remy popped the ‘p’ in ‘wassup’, but then felt himself tensing up again as he started speaking very quickly into the phone.

“Thebulliestheyshovedmeandtookmybookandwentthroughitand—”

_“Whoa, slow down there, boo,”_ Remy interjected. Virgil then heard a slurp of what must have been a Mocha Frappuccino from Starbucks before Remy continued. _“Now repeat yourself, but, like, slower.”_

“They took the sketchbook,” Virgil whispered.

_“Oh, well, shoot, hun, I don’t know what to tell ya. I mean, I guess you, like, don’t have to show people your like, fabulous drawings on your own anymore…at least ‘they’ like, did ya a favor, I guess –”_

“Remy,” Virgil hissed. “The bullies. Took. _The._ Sketchbook.”

Dead silence on the other line. Then, Virgil heard a whispered (or as close as you could get to that from Remy), “ _The_ _sketchbook?”_

“Yes,” Virgil choked. He could feel himself tearing up. “ _The_ sketchbook.”

“ _Like, the the sketchbook?_”

“ _Yes_ ,” Virgil choked out again. “They already thought I was gay, and now there’s their fucking proof, right?”

_“Maaaaaybe they’ll, like, not do anything,”_ Remy suggested.

“They’re Dorian and Jess. Of course they’ll fucking do something with it. They’ll make photocopies of all the drawings and post them all around the goddamn school along with ‘VIRGIL IS A FAG’ spray-painted all over the fucking lockers just to make me miserable like they always do. And then they’ll give it to Roman like they said they would after all that misery. Just to mortify me more. They’ll out me, Remy.”

_“Or…”_

“Or what?” Virgil asked, clenching his teeth and holding back his tears.

_“Or…they could just, like, do what they said they’d do and give the thing to Prince and that’s it.”_

Virgil froze and he felt his phone drop to the tile floor with a crack. And now his screen was probably broken. Fucking fantastic. He picked it back up and sure enough, there was a hairline crack down the screen. He pressed it back to his ear just in time to hear a _“…ere’d you go, gurl?”_

“I’m here,” Virgil whispered to keep himself from trying to cry. 

_“You’re really upset about this, aren’tcha?”_

“Yeah,” Virgil said. “Cause like…what if he th-thinks I’m creepy and weird – well weirder than he probably already thinks—a-and a stalker and I don’t think he hates me but he definitely will if he sees this and he’ll b-bully me just like the others do and I don’t think I can handle that because I don’t want him to h-hate me –”

_“Boo. Boo. He’s not gonna hatecha. No decent person would. He doesn’t even, like, know who you are. Maybe you’ll, like, get it back before anything bad can happen. Or maybe he’ll be flattered by the drawings since there’s, like, all G-rated stuff in there.” Virgil heard another slurp of the Frappuccino before Remy said, “Shit, I’m sorry, gurl, I’m late for work. Good luck, okay?”_

“Thanks, Rem,” Virgil whispered.

_“No prob. Byeeeee!”_

“Bye.”

_Click._

Virgil held his head between his knees and tried not to cry. He knew all of this was going to go wrong.

Then again, maybe Remy was right…

.o0o.

  
One day passed, and then another, and before Virgil knew it, he’d mostly forgotten about what had happened.

That is, until about a week later at lunch.

Virgil normally sat outside where no one would bother him, and today was no different. He sat underneath the overhang on the outside of the school; it was mostly freshmen who sat out here, which was good since Virgil knew no one else out there and juniors weren’t supposed to talk to freshmen anyway. He was eating his sandwich and doing a quick sketch of the Volkswagen Beetle parked in front of the school when he heard a silky voice say, “Can I sit here?”

Virgil looked up and almost lost his shit, because standing and looking down at him was Roman flipping Prince, holding his lunchbox in his strong hand and clutching his notebooks to his toned chest and looking at Virgil curiously with those fucking beautiful brown eyes and it took all of Virgil’s willpower to squeak out a, “ _Sure,_ ” without screaming. Roman gave Virgil a dazzling smile and sat down next to him, carefully placing his books in between their legs. He scooted closer to look down at Virgil’s sketchbook. As he leaned over Virgil’s shoulder, Virgil felt Roman’s dark hair brush against his reddening cheek.

“Did you draw that?” Roman asked, pointing to the unfinished sketch. “It’s wonderful!”

Virgil flushed as he scribbled his signature next to the drawing and slammed the sketchbook shut. “I-It’s just a s-sketch; it’s n-n-not very g-good…”

“Nonsense,” Roman declared. “It’s fantastic! You have a gift!”

And that’s when Virgil fully processed what was going on. Roman Prince was sitting with him, talking to him, _complimenting_ him, and Virgil thought he was going to explode.

So…

“Why are you talking to me, Roman Taylor Prince?” Virgil snapped. “Why are you out here when you should be inside with all of your friends? Do you even know who I am?” 

_No, he doesn’t. And he shouldn’t, either. You’re a nobody._

Roman fell silent, and then said quietly, “Virgil.”

Virgil looked up at him. _“What.”_

“Virgil,” Roman repeated. “I'm pretty sure that's your name. And although I must shamefully admit I didn't know it until yesterday, I knew your initials. They’re VXS.”

“How the hell –” Virgil was cut off by Roman handing him a worn-out sketchbook with a black leather cover. The sketchbook.

Yep, he was screwed.

He snatched the book from Roman and looked away, clutching the book to his chest. “So that’s it. You were going to gang up with Dorian and Jess and humiliate me by showing off all the drawings to everyone and yelling, ‘HEY GUESS WHAT, THIS LOSER GAY KID HAS A MILLION CREEPY DRAWINGS OF ME’?” Virgil glared. “Well, sorry to foil your plans.”

“What does VXS stand for?” Roman asked.

“Why do you care?"

“Because I do. What do your initials stand for?”

“I…” Virgil sighed, then muttered, “Virgil Xavier Sanders. I’m sorry for all…” he gestured to the sketchbook, “… _this_. And I get it if you think I’m creepy and weird or you hate me because most people do and I’m sorry for bothering you and…I’m gonna go.” He started to pack up his things and was about to stand up when Roman put a hand on his shoulder. He looked at him, eyes wide. Roman gave him a soft smile.

“I don’t hate you, Virgil,” he said. “And I’m not going to humiliate you. At least, not intentionally. And you’re weird, yes, but being weird is fantastic!”

“You did look in that sketchbook, right?”

Roman gave Virgil a sad smile. “Dorian and Jess had given me the sketchbook, along with some not-so-sunshine words about the person who’d drawn them.” 

Virgil rolled his eyes. “Let me guess. Was it ‘look at all these dirty drawings a fag made of you?’”

Roman’s eyes widened. “That was pretty much word for word,” he admitted. “When I opened the sketchbook I was pretty worried, but then…” he sighed dreamily. “I looked…happy, and wistful, and beautiful in those drawings. I found it hard to believe someone thought I was beautiful enough to draw again and again and again.”

He looked down at his shoes. “It was the first time I really believed I was beautiful,” he whispered.

Virgil felt the corners of his mouth quirk up. “Well…you kind of are,” he said, gesturing to Roman’s face.

Roman gave Virgil a small smile as his cheeks darkened. “I was so wonderstruck by the drawings, I knew I had to find the person who had drawn them,” he said, “and that’s when I remembered the art contest.”

“You…remembered that?”

“I remembered the charcoal drawing of a castle that was submitted anonymously and got second place. I went to the art room to look at it, and sure enough, the signature on that drawing was the same one on all of the sketches – VXS.”

“So you asked Mr. Foster.”

“I did, but he didn’t know who had drawn it, so yesterday after school I went to Dr. Picani and showed him the sketchbook, because I did want to return it. He took one look at it and knew it was yours, and, well, here we are.”

“Sorry to disappoint,” Virgil grumbled, which got a surprised gasp from Roman.

“Dissapoint?” he asked, astounded. “I’m not disappointed. Not one bit.”

“Really?” Virgil asked.

Roman nodded. “Really.”

“How?” Virgil asked desperately. “It’s _me_. That loser emo artist kid who never talks to anyone and spends all his time listening to Fall Out Boy and drawing pretty boys in his sketchbook.”

“It’s you,” Roman echoed. “That artsy boy who made me feel so beautiful and so, so loved with his incredible drawings. That boy who seems to put himself down far more often than he deserves. That boy I feel guilty for not knowing more about, but I would love to get to know better.” He winked and Virgil clenched his teeth.

“Um…okay, so I’m not the best at social cues –”

“I’m asking you out,” Roman said, chuckling.

“Like on a date?” Virgil asked. Needless to say he was pretty dumbfounded.

“ _No_ , to go study at the library,” Roman said, rolling his eyes and smirking. “Yes, on a date. Well?”

Virgil felt his knees shaking as he tore out a piece of his sketchbook paper. He scribbled out his cell number and handed it to Roman, giving him a small nod. The lunch bell rang and Roman gave Virgil a wide grin as he scooped up his notebooks and the fated piece of paper. “I’ll text you, alright?”

Virgil nodded again as he picked up his own stuff. “Sure.”

“Well, until then, see you around, my dark and emo knight,” he said, taking Virgil’s free hand and pressing a short kiss to his knuckles. Virgil waved and giggled ( _giggled_ – good gods, he had to have some sort of reputation to uphold, right?) as Roman walked back into the front entrance of the school. Virgil walked to the side and took out his phone. _Call Remy Morgan._

  
“Hey Remy, sooooooo losing my sketchbook might have gone a little better than expected…”

 

**Author's Note:**

> oOf Roman seems a little ooc to me but idk
> 
> Comments and Kudos are appreciated!


End file.
